


the gods may be laughing (but at least you're by my side)

by Christian_Richtown



Category: Bastille Day (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-03 16:11:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13344780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Christian_Richtown/pseuds/Christian_Richtown
Summary: In a time of modern Greek gods, Sean Briar has never had occasion to visit Aphrodite's temple, even if he is a follower of Ares. But Michael changes that, because somehow this is his life now.---(For Julie.)





	the gods may be laughing (but at least you're by my side)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kaciart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaciart/gifts).



For someone who’d prescribed to the worship of Ares of all the gods to choose from, Briar could actually count on one hand the times he’d willingly gone into Aphrodite’s temple bearing her Lover’s Mark - given even CIA operatives weren’t safe from the Mark of Ares on every uniform they ever got  _ever_  and even his tactical suit was no exception because Tom had a sense of humor apparently - and willingly left a candle on the altar. **  
**

Of course, anyone who thought themselves a devotee to Ares usually found their way to Aphrodite sooner or later. It was, after all, a major part of the God and Goddess, how drawn together, how fiery a passion, all that bullshit. For many in the police who bore Ares’ Mark as well, Aphrodite was the go-to for all things outside of work. No one could say Ares and Aphrodite didn’t have one of the most complex and fulfilling love affairs in all the Patheon canon, after all, and he supposed those that daily put their lives on the line needed something golden to reach for to stay sane. And if that was Love, then so be it.

But still, Briar hadn’t had much reason to come, even less reason to leave an offering. He didn’t exactly pray, that wasn’t his style, and gods or not, he had trouble with authority - but of course they knew that, and he figured his humble offerings were better than nothing - but sometimes his life took unexpected corners. And this most recent corner had led him here.

The first time he’d come to Aphrodite’s temple, he’d been in highschool and had fallen in love with a girl. Sandra Basset, a senior, who maybe had the best smile he’d ever seen on the dark side of Cleveland. He’d been a freshman, and stupid, and lovestruck, but he’d left an offering to Aphrodite to thank her for making him feel the way he did. His mother had taught him that was how to do it.  _Never ask for someone to fall in love with you,_  she’d told him.  _Thank the gods only for what you feel._ And so he had.

The second and third times were much the same. College, then a woman that had almost become his wife before the CIA pulled him away. Once he’d gotten into the undercover life, he’d stopped coming altogether. Pretty lies and falsehoods. He’d never thank any god for making him feel that. And he was pretty certain after more than a decade avoiding the orbit of Aphrodite’s temple, he was more than in the clear.

He wasn’t sure who was more surprised that he was here now: him, or the goddess herself. Not that he could tell if she was or not, but he had a feeling she’d given up on him. He was too coarse, too rough, too violent. He didn’t care about things like romance, or gifts, or puppy love. He didn’t even really do the stress fucking a lot of agents fell into. He’d been alone long enough it was a part of him. Standing now at this altar just made him feel adrift, but he set the candle down nonetheless and said a quiet thank you, and maybe felt more than stupid for doing it.

Just as quickly as he came, he left, just long enough to light the candle and look up once at Aphrodite’s statue before leaving. He didn’t feel blessed, but he didn’t feel cursed either, so maybe that was a step in the right direction.

Though, he’d admit, he no longer felt like running away, either, when he returned to the van and watched one Michael Mason struggle into his own bullet proof vest. So maybe he was a little blessed. What fuckery.

“I still don’t know why i have to wear this,” Michael protested as Briar wordlessly batted his fluttering hands away and did up the braces properly. “It’s a quick in and out and you specifically told me I could do this because it was low risk.”

“I did,” Briar said tersely, giving Michael a pat on the back once the vest was secure. Well, a pat for him. For Michael, it was more akin to a shove, given how he immediately folded over and pouted more.

“So why the armor?” Michael tugged at the collar of the vest with a look of extreme distaste before accepting his shirt and jacket back to cover it all.

Briar raised an eyebrow at him. “If you want to chance a bullet to the back without the vest, go right ahead.” Because he’d be damned if Michael ever figured out the armor was more for Briar’s peace of mind than Michael’s safety, Ares help him. But Michael was a true devotee of Hermes, and it wasn’t just because of the thieving. The kid had trouble written all over him and if shoving him into bullet proof armor could help in any way, then by the gods he’d do it every mission.

Still, Michael was quick witted and as flighty as Hermes’ winged sandals, and obviously hated being weighed down. Even with the vest as a form fitting one, it was clear Michael still wasn’t happy with the added padding as he pushed a comm link into his ear. But he could put up with it, as far as Briar was concerned. He’d made enough mistakes with fellow agents and missions. Michael was not going to be added to the list if he could help it.

…fuck, but he was really in deep shit, wasn’t he?

“Stop whining and stick to what you know,” Briar said as he unceremoniously shoved Michael out of the van. “Get me a lead and get out. I’d rather not break cover to save your ass. Clear?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Michael was obviously doing his best not to smile at him and keep that put upon expression on his face, but for all he was quick with his fingers, his eyes were too honest, and they were downright  _smiling_  as he turned away to head into the bar, shoulders high, head ducked, cigarette in his mouth. If Briar wanted to do all the stupid, irrational things that he blamed Aphrodite for because of those eyes and pouty mouth, well, that was his business and no one needed to know about it.

Fuckdammit.

 _Why him?_  He closed his eyes a moment so as not to watch Michael disappear into the bar. He could hear the kid’s breathing in his ear through the comm and that was hardly an improvement. But it was a sign of life, and his war-raised instincts held onto it for that alone.

Still, it was a new level of bullshit that this was happening. How dare anyone, let alone a  _thief_ , have the right to make him a mess like this? Fine, so Ares’ devotees tended to fall into the same sort of passionate love affairs the god himself did, but this was  _Briar_. He didn’t do passion, or romance, or any of that crap. Yet here he was, falling for a follower of Hermes of all things. Flighty, quick, naive, and far too bright for someone on the rough side of life. Where did someone like that get off smiling at him? Teasing with him? Flirting? Looking so damned hopeful? He was fire and blood and stone. White and black and red. Michael was colors and uncertainty. And Briar just didn’t deal well with the unknown.

But he was dealing with Michael, somehow. And moreover, Michael was dealing with  _him_. And wasn’t that just the cherry on top of this fucked up sundae. All his life he’d been told how he was unfit to be a romantic partner, or a friend, or anything outside his job. And there was Michael burning that to ashes just when Briar had come to accept it. Fuck his life.

 _“In and out,”_  Michael’s voice filled his ear and the smirk was unmistakable. He grunted in response and held the door open as his partner climbed in and offered him a wallet. Briar hardly had to look at the driver’s license to guess it belonged to the man they were tailing.

“So, how’d I do?” Michael asked as he stripped off the jacket and shirt and attacked the vest like it’d personally offended his ancestors. Briar just grunted again, impressed but not admitting it aloud, but Michael beamed anyway, as though he  _knew_. “Now what, then?”

Briar waved the card in the air. “We visit his address and  _you_  put that vest back on.”

Michael’s sigh was long winded and dramatic, another Hermes trait that should’ve annoyed him, but only made him  _fond_. Fuck everything.

“Do I at least get a gun this time?”

Briar shot him a smile, which he only did when he got the pleasure of saying, “No.”

“Ugh.”

Michael muttered in the back of the van, grumpily pulling the vest on again as Briar moved to the driver’s seat and started it up. He paused the briefest of moments just to breathe and listen to Michael hopping around while his eyes lighted on Aphrodite’s temple. It seemed smug, somehow, and he sighed in defeat, before putting the van in drive and turning down a street away from the building.

But the sounds of grunting and cursing didn’t cease and Briar allowed himself another moment to be thankful, for all that was fuckery, that he maybe had a chance here with someone that saw all his darkness, all his flaws, and maybe wanted him regardless. He could find it in himself to be thankful for that, even if he only felt like screaming.

A kid under the wings of Hermes. If his own mother had told him he’d be in this predicament, he’d have laughed in her face. Hermes attracted a certain type of person, and those types generally took flight whenever Briar got close. It was just in their nature. But Michael wasn’t flying away. The opposite, in fact. He allowed Briar to tie him to one place, one purpose, and seemed happy enough to be there, even if that meant dealing with Briar on a day to day basis. The kid only seemed to be getting  _fonder_  of him, in fact. He couldn’t decide if Michael was actually stupid or just that lonely. Perhaps a bit of both.

And perhaps Briar was just that little bit stupid and a lot lonely too. A blessing then, to have such a flighty partner. At least a vest tied him down nicely, kept him safe, with only minor fussing.

Briar knew it wouldn’t keep him there, by his side, forever, but he was nothing if not adaptable. He could find new ways to entice Michael in, as long as the kid stayed willing.

And that, if nothing else, he could be thankful for.


End file.
